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Humans do evolve but sometimes they do change all of sudden,
It's us who take time to notice it and realise it.

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Stay foolish in world of fools

A fool can be fooled,
a foolish can't be fooled.

A foolish can be a fool,
but a fool cannot be foolish.

And it's okay to be foolish for a fool,
because to fool someone one has to be foolish.

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Life is All Too Well
Take me back to the days where I can be a child,
Money I spent on the bills,
And I'm broke at the end of month.
My wishes get locked up in an invisible box,
Yet life is all too well.

9 to 5 isn't a pride but fuc*ed up room,
to lose friends isn't so rude,
but the new ones don't think fun to vibe.
Either one is getting a job, or engaged, or studying all alone,
Yet life is all too well.

My friend pushing me for a blind date in a Marquee club—
That's not how I find a love in my life.
My aunt pushing me to get a job,
but I want to write 13th sequel of my novel.
My uncle pushing me to do higher studies,
but I want to be poetry to my poems.
Yet life is all too well.

My pain isn't in tears anymore,
my grave isn't in graveyard.
A conversation with people isn't me anymore,
got the brightest smile now without a shine,
Yet life is all too well.

Take me back to the days where I can be a child,
to play hide and seek without betrayals,
and an orange ice lolly during summers.
Listening stories from grandmother was the last thing at every night.
Yet life is all too well.
And old days can be visited in memories, but cannot be lived again.

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You stiched my wound with the needle of lies,
And you asked me why it's bleeding more.

-

I played the guitar till my fingers bleed but strings didn't make a sound

-

My guitar strings didn't dance for symphony even though they were tied along.

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You sit with a coffee and Solomon,
the library in silence, drifted scent from shelves,
and the rain in violence outside the window,
the light like fireflies, and your heart can't rely.

Sipping coffee with Solomon—
were you reading it for joy, or
searching for yourself in those
paragraphs? My questioned thoughts,
looking at you like stargazing.

Absent-mindedly, you adjusted your specs,
and accidentally our eyes met.
I went back to my Looking for Alaska—
the grief of the ending, gentle yet sobbing me,
made your face dull by seeing me.

Every day, sitting at the same place, with the same book,
stealing glances at each other.
After a month,
you sit with two coffees and Solomon—
the library in euphoria, dust motes rising from shelves,
sunshine through the window,
your heart with joy.

Sipping coffee with Solomon,
sitting next to you,
"The sadness isn’t wonderful, yet not forever,
and how you’re the reason for my smile again," he said.
Looking at you like stargazing,
and my star gazes at me.

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silence grew so strong that sometimes it feels like a normal routine, like in present the presence or absence of dinosaurs doesn't bother anyone.

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My reality seems so fake for this world, and the one who fakes seems like a real one.

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